On Being a Foreigner (Part One): Donating to the Community

Over the next week or so, I am planning on writing a series of blog posts with various funny things that have happened to me as I have been living in China.  I have entitled this series “On Being a Foreigner.”

Part One: Donating to the Community

I have had three bikes since moving to China. I did not get my first one until almost a year after I had come to China. My first bike was, well, special to say least. It was in pretty bad shape. Someone who had left had given it to me for free, so I could not complain though the brakes made nails on a chalkboard sound like the New York Symphony. Needless to say, the brakes did not work well, and I often had to use my feet to stop it. Because it was in such bad shape, I did not take it outside my apartment complex very often. Well one day, one of the brakes fell off. I had every intention of getting it repaired, but then the seat of the bike was stolen. You can read about the details of that ordeal here. That was the last straw. I unlocked the bike and donated it to the community. Usually if a bike is left unlocked, it only takes a few hours before it is taken. However, my seat-less bike with the break dangling off lasted about a week before anyone deemed it worthy of being stolen; I mean before anyone accepted my donation.

Not too long after that incident, my roommate decided that she wanted to buy a new bike, so she gave me her bike. This bike was in better shape than the previous one though it still had some quirks. This bike I christened my rocket ship bike because it made the sound of a rocket taking off. However, it did not ever reach that warp speed that rocket ships are supposed to. So there I was the obvious foreigner with a bike that made sure that the whole world would stop and stare at me as I rode past. I think that something was wrong with one of the tires, but I never really figured it out. One day, my roommate and I had plans to go to the White Market (this is a market with a white gate, hence the name), and we planned to bike. Nevertheless, about 5 minutes into our ride, I could tell that my bike was not going to make it. So we decided to leave our bikes and take the bus instead. That was the second bike that I donated a bike to the community, though I was relieved to part with it.

I bought my final bike last spring from a family who was leaving. This time I waited for a bike that was good quality, and I have not had any misadventures with this bike, except for the time when I ran into another lady on the bike as I was trying to weave through traffic. However, there was no damage to either of us or to our bikes. Therefore, this bike is here to stay.

SIDENOTE: Whenever I talk about riding my bike, I always feel the need to mention that I do wear a helmet, making it even more obvious that I am a foreigner. One simply cannot look cool or blend in when wearing a helmet. Mom, that red helmet is for you. I may be thousands of miles away, but I still feel guilty if I ride my bike without it. You raised me well.